


Spiderweb

by OneWingRoyal



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley is a dick, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Shapeshifting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26862712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWingRoyal/pseuds/OneWingRoyal
Summary: Aziraphale faces his arachnophobia, and gets some comfort afterwards.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 18





	Spiderweb

**Author's Note:**

> Am I supposed to be doing research for my college classes? Maybe. Am I writing self-induldgent Ineffable Husbands anyway? You bet your ass I am

Arachnids are a class of mainly terrestrial invertebrate animals. They are distinguished from insects by the fact that they all have eight legs (as opposed to an insect’s six) and they do not have antennae. Also, arachnids are notable because they do not have wings in their adult form, which is good because if they did, the broom-wielding, chair-standing Aziraphale might have had a heart attack and died in his tracks.

Yes, yes, every creature on God’s beautiful Earth has a special role and is equally worthy of love. Aziraphale knows this. But spiders specifically are skittery and scattery and they just have too many legs for Aziraphale’s taste. Plus, despite the heavenly energy filled within his body, he didn’t know the risk of this lovely little black widow spider biting and discorporating him, and he certainly did not want to spend his lovely Saturday evening finding out. Aziraphale and the black widow were both posted in their places like figurines, staring each other down. The black widow had two of its legs raised into the air, and its abdomen, adorned on the underside with its distinctive scarlet hourglass, gently made contact with the polished wood floor of Aziraphale’s bookshop in a defensive stance.

It was moments like this that Aziraphale wished that he could just make conversation with the fauna with whom he had these disagreements.

“Hello, good madam,” Aziraphale would likely say. “I understand that you have made your residence in between two of my several dictionaries, but unfortunately I must evict you as you are quite frankly dangerous to my health, and I have also not seen but two pence of rent money from you. You have 1 minute to gather your belongings and leave.”

“But I have babies, Mr. Fell!” the widow would say. Unfortunately, this exchange would never happen, and it was a frivolous use of a miracle to try and force it. Aziraphale had to make a choice and either let the creature be (which Aziraphale could not do without constantly fearing a surprise bite), kill it with his broom (which would be the easiest but most immoral option in the angel’s view), or capture it (which would be terrifying and could hurt, but would spare the animal’s life). With a sigh, Aziraphale knew that he already had his answer. 

“Stay,” Aziraphale said while pointing at the black widow. He knew that it could not understand him, but he hoped that it would obey anyway. Hopping off the chair on which he was perched, he dashed off and grabbed a glass from his kitchen, as well as a sheet of expired coupons that was thin enough to slide underneath the glass without too much gap, but sturdy enough to hold the black widow in. When he came back with his trap, the black widow had seemingly not moved, and by the time it did realize what was happening, Aziraphale had already slammed the glass onto the floor around it. As the arachnid climbed up the surface of the glass in search of escape, Aziraphale shakily shoved the sheet of paper underneath it.

“Yes!” Aziraphale whispered to himself. The hard part was done. Now, he just needed to get it outside. He held the paper-covered glass in one hand as he walked to the back door, fiddling with the knob on it with his other hand. However, as he opened up the door, the glass in his hand got heavier and heavier -- not unmanageably so, but it was enough for Aziraphale to notice the change. More oddly, when he looked back, the black widow had been exchanged with a python of the same coloration, its thick body pressing against the slightly-too-small confines of the -- oh. Aziraphale’s face fell.

“Crowley! That is incredibly mean!” The python hissed and pushed up the paper with its nose, slithering up and plopping its entire 6-foot red-and-black body on the floor.

“Oh, come off it, angel! Can’t I poke fun at once in a while? You’re so adorable when you’re scared!” Crowley said once he’d given his own vocal cords back. Within a few seconds, the snake was once again a chuckling redheaded British man, sitting upright. “Ow!” Being whacked on the top of the head with a rolled-up sheet of expired coupons didn’t actually hurt that much, but Aziraphale managed to put some power behind it. 

“Don’t you know how much disdain I have for spiders? Don’t you have any regard for how I feel?” Aziraphale turned away from Crowley and crossed his arms, sitting back into his chair and unabashedly pouting. “I hate you.”

“Oh, please.” 

“It’s true! I despise you, you foul creature of the underworld, you demon, you devil, you cruel being.” 

“Nooooo you don’t! You’re an angel! You can’t ‘hate’ much of anything!” Crowley walked over to where Aziraphale was, his stride smooth and elegant just like his slither. Even when he slung his arms over Az’s shoulders and laid them in his lap, the angel remained completely in place.

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t. I can prove it.” Crowley turned and sat himself right in Aziraphale’s lap, but the other man just huffed and turned his head away, acting that he wasn’t there. 

“You would have to lie to ‘prove it’, because it isn’t true!”

“I don’t have to say anything at all.” 

“And what does that -- eep!!” Suddenly, Crowley’s lips were pressing butterfly kisses all over Aziraphale’s neck and cheeks, absolutely merciless in their attack. “Crowley! Ehehe -- Crowley that isn’t fair! Stop iiiiit! Ah! Crowley, that tickles!!” Despite his best efforts, Aziraphale quickly dissolved into giggles. “Crowleeeey! I’m supposed to be mad at you!”  
“No.” Crowley knew that he had won, and the way Aziraphale clung to him and melted into him when he pressed their lips together just proved it even more. When they parted, Aziraphale’s expression was caught somewhere between a giddy smile and his pout from earlier.

“If you’re going to prank me so horribly, at least let me punish you for it.”

Crowley waggled his eyebrows up and down. 

“No, not like that! I know that you’re a demon, but get your mind out of the gutter, why don’t you?” Aziraphale flicked Crowley right in the tip of his nose, which was about as close as he could feasibly get to doing any real harm to someone, especially someone that he cared for as much as Crowley. “I mean actual punishment! Something that would evoke some remorse!”

“Oh, but see I’m super remorseful!” Crowley wiggled down a bit until he could nestle his head under Aziraphale’s chin and hug onto him. “See, look! I’m so sorry. So innocent, so small, so repentant.” Aziraphale simply responded with another huff. “If it’ll make you feel better, I can make us some tea and we can cuddle on the sofa.” Crowley only needed to hear Aziraphale’s excited gasp and feel his heartbeat speed up to have his answer, no matter how hard the angel tried to suppress it. Without waiting for any more from Aziraphale, Crowley got up and lifted him like a princess, carrying him over to their couch and covering him in a nearby pastel quilt. As Crowley got up to make tea, however, he found himself leashed in place by Aziraphale’s hand grabbing his. 

“Stay.” 

“I thought you said you hated me,” Crowley said with a playful pout similar to Aziraphale’s. But instead of answering, Aziraphale furrowed his brows slightly and grabbed Crowley’s arm with his other hand too, yanking him back anyway.

“No. I love you.” Aziraphale was sick of playing games, and he grabbed at Crowley and lay on top of him until there was no hope of escape. Crowley chuckled, and Aziraphale loved how warm it was, beautiful and atypical for an agent of the underworld. 

“I love you too, angel,” Crowley said, wrapping his arms around his lover and giving in to the comfort of it.


End file.
